


My Name is Charlie

by BluMoonGoddess216



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, EVERYONE - Freeform, F/M, I already know I'm gonna kill off a bunch of people so be ready!, Literally everyone is gonna die, Masturbation, No happy ending here, Sexy Time, Slow Burn, Smut, Talk of Suicide, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, also wanna try a softer John Seed, drunk driving is BAD, im attached to this story and wanna write more, there's totally gonna be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-05-18 09:13:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluMoonGoddess216/pseuds/BluMoonGoddess216
Summary: You are tired of it all and call out to the one person who will understand...





	1. Chapter 1

The night sky was illuminated with an infinite amount of stars. So beautiful, so peaceful. the cool breeze caressed your exposed skin as you sat on the tailgate of the truck. The silence consumed you. You had driven far enough away from civilization that you couldn't see any lights and weren't sure if you were even on a road anymore. You were alone with your own thoughts for the first time in a long while. You felt a sense of calm rush over you as your hand reached for the radio at your side, flipping it to the frequency he loved to taunt you on.

"John," your voice timid, "John, please pick up."

As the silence hung around you, you began to doubt yourself, maybe this was a stupid idea. But then his voice rang out to you.

"My dear deputy. To what do I owe the pleasure of this late night call?" he sounded as if you had roused him from a deep beauty sleep.

You held the radio to your lips as you swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. You had gone over it in your head a million times, but now in the moment, your mind went blank. 

"Do you ever want it all to just go away?" you finally blurted out. 

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand, my dear." Johns voice was soft, something you didn't think he was capable of. 

You took a deep breath, wiping away the tears welling in your eyes. You tough, cool exterior was beginning to crack. "I mean, did you ever wish for it all to end? For it to just stop. To not exist anymore. That you could just disappear forever from this world." you waited in the silence, trying to hold it all in, but it was too much and the flood gates broke. The tears poured from you eyes till your body hurt and you couldn't breath.

"Oh, you poor, broken child," Johns sounded sincere for the first time, "I know your pain. I know it all too well." his words danced around in your ears, his voice a shiny beacon in the vast void around you.

"I just can't do it anymore!" You spit out. "I don't want to be everyone's whipping boy anymore. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I just wish it would all go away." Your face fell into you hand as you sobbed, "I just feel so empty. With every life I've taken, a piece of my soul has died and it wasn't even whole to begin with." 

You couldn't do it anymore. You were broken. The burden of being the hero weighed too heavily on your shoulders. You didn't want to bare this responsibility any longer. You were no hero. This wasn't supposed to be your lot in life, you had pictured so much more for yourself. A normal life, getting married, having babies, and growing old with someone. Not becoming a mass murderer. 

"I can lift this burden from you," John cooed out over the radio, "All you have to do is say Yes..."

You wiped your face on the tattered sleeve of you shirt. "Oh, you mean go from being the locals bitch to yours? Not exactly what I had in mind." 

"Oh, come now, deputy."

"Stop calling me that!" you snapped. "No one has even asked me what my fucking name is around here! Just ordered me around like some kind of servant." the tears had stopped.

You were tired of people calling you everything but your name. Like you weren't even a person, just a machine to do their dirty work. You had lost yourself in the persona of "The Deputy" and you didn't want to play the part anymore. You ached to go back to your normal life again. 

"Will you allow me the honour of knowing your name?" Johns words were soft and delicate. 

You stared down at the radio in your hands and laughed at the absurdity of the moment. This man that you were supposed to be at war with, was treating you with more compassion than your "friends". 

"It's Charlene, after my grandma. But everyone back home just called me Charlie." you smiled. Having your name roll off your tongue after so long felt freeing. 

"That's a beautiful name."

"Thank you." you laughed again at the irony of thanking your enemy. "My grandma was pretty amazing." your mind drifted off to happier memories. 

You trembled slightly as the breeze began to pick up around you causing your skin to goosebump. It was late and getting colder by the second. Fall was quickly giving way to winter around you and you hadn't even noticed. 

"Where are you?" 

You closed your eyes and smiled, bringing the radio to your lips once more. "I'm a couple miles south of your tacky home."

"Come now! There's no need to be mean. I like to think of it as rustic." you hadn't noticed before how alluring Johns voice was. Especially when he was being kind. "I have a proposition for you."

"Go on." you held your breath awaiting his response.

"A sort of cease fire. At least for the night. Come to my ranch and I promise no harm will come to you."

His words caught you off guard. You wondered what his motives really were. "And why would I do a stupid thing like that?"

"For the same stupid reason you called out to me and not one of your "friends". You shouldn't be alone tonight."

Damn if he didn't have a point. In your lowest moment, you hadn't called out to any of your friends, you had called out for him. Something telling you that he would be the only one to truly understand the desperation you felt. That he would know the pain you kept hidden away from everyone around you. 

You weighed your options. If you stayed out here alone, you weren't sure you could make it through the night without eating your gun. John was right, you couldn't be alone if you truly wanted to survive the night. Worst case, you would die by Johns hand and no one would know that you had wanted it. You could die the hero. 

You took one more look around. The stars coated the night sky and lit up the world around the truck. You made peace with your decision.

"I'm on my way."

"And I'll be waiting..."

 

With those words, John had bounded out of bed in a flash. He quickly changed and fixed his messy hair in the mirror before he flew down the stairs to the front porch. He waited quiet and patient as the Peggies around him gave each other perplexed looks. Why was the herald up and waiting on his porch at this time of night?

As the truck weaved around the final corner to Johns, the Peggies lifted their weapons at the intruder willing to do whatever to protect John. They waited for his command.

"It's the deputy!" someone yelled. 

"Stand down!" John bellowed as he began to saunter to your truck. 

"And her name is Charlie."


	2. Chapter 2

It was late at night or early in the morning, however you chose to view it. The stars were slowly receding back into the black abyss of space as the rays of sunlight threatened to crest over the hills and mountains of the valley. The birds would begin their morning songs soon.

You sat in silence admiring the beauty around you. The breeze began to pick up and sent a chill over you, prickling your skin. This was going to be your first winter in Montanna. You pictured the valley floor coated in a blanket of white snow and wondered if your imagination could even do it justice. 

You could hear the muffled conversation of the Peggies that walked below the balcony you sat perched on. You could only make out a few words, ‘Deputy’ and ‘What the fuck?’. You smiled down at the mug between your hands, taking a soothing drink of the tea that John had prepared for you.

\----------

John had been a gracious host, welcoming you into his home like an old friend. He beamed giving you a tour of the grounds. He seemed oblivious to the daggers his guards were staring into you as you walked by, itchy trigger fingers waiting for the command. 

His eyes twinkled and his voice drew giddy over his pride and joy, Affirmation. The sleek black aircraft held a special place in John’s heart, you saw it in the way he touched her, the way he talked about her as if she were a sentient being. His child-like excitement brought a smile to your face. He had gone so far as encouraging you to sit in the cockpit, asserting you couldn’t understand the power the plane held until you did. You humored him, plopping down into the seat as he explained to you what all the tricky little buttons did. Once he was satisfied with your appreciation for his favorite toy, he held his hand out, offering to help you out of the seat. 

As your fingers slid into his soft grip, you felt something you couldn’t quite pin down the word for. You stepped out onto the wing, interwoven hands lingered for longer than what was necessary, neither wanting to relinquish their hold on the other. A fleeting glance, flushed cheeks, and a devil's grin were the result.

\----------

“Do you like it?”

You shook the haze from your mind, remembering where you were.

“Yes, thank you,” you smiled, bringing the mug to your lips once more. 

“It’s chamomile. Should help you to relax a little,” John spoke with sincerity, “If it’s not enough though, I do have some Bliss you could add to it.”

You laughed softly at his offer. The thought of being in a Blissed out state around John wasn’t the highest priority on your list.

“No drugs tonight, thanks,” you politely declined, “Probably not the best idea for the state I’m in.”

“Understood,” he replied gently with a smile.

You looked down to the mug in your hands as you swirled the soothing liquid around. The morning was fast approaching and with it came the realization that your time with John was coming to an end as well, he had only promised the night. And you had yet to address the elephant in the room.

“Everybody wants something from me,” you closed your eyes imagining the Rolodex of demands on your plate currently. “Eli wants Jacob dead. Jacob wants my submission, Your sister wants to turn my brain to mush.” Your head rested against the back of the chair and that all too familiar feeling crept over you. The tears began to well in the corners of your eyes and the pressure in your sinuses began to build. You swallowed the lump in your throat before continuing, “Joseph wants me to be a sign from God, and Earl,” you let out a pained laugh, “Earl is too damn old to do his job properly,” you drank down the last of your tea, placing the cup on the table in front of you. You turned to John who was sitting beside you, allowing yourself to truly look at the man for the first time. 

“And then, there’s you…”

John quietly studied your face.

“And what do I ask of you?”

The corners of your mouth turned up, allowing a warm smile to unfurl over your lips.

“Nothing,” you said delicately, “On the contrary, you’re the only one to offer me anything.” you hesitantly placed your hand over his, gripping it faintly, “You offer me freedom.”

The golden rays of sunlight began trickling through the hills, cascading through the trees and falling to the valley floor. The birds had begun to sing their songs and the world around you began to rise from its slumber. You could hear as the Peggies started making their rounds around the ranch and saw as trucks began to pull in and out of the driveway. Your heart began to sink as the warming rays of the sun began to fall upon you. 

“It seems my time is up,” you sighed, releasing your grip on his hand. You stood, scanning the horizon one last time before you made your way towards the door. 

Johns soft fingers laced around your wrist.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he stood, drawing you closer. He softly brushed his hand across your cheek before holding it, gazing deeply into your eyes. He pressed his forehead to yours, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. You closed your eyes and breathed him in.

“John, we can’t…” before you could finish, his supple lips were pressing into yours. Every move he made was slow and deliberate, pulling you even closer as his tongue begged to explore your mouth. He slipped in between your parted lips and as your tongues danced away you could feel the heat pooling inside of you. You were drunk off his touch. 

You knew you shouldn't be allowing this. That you should be pushing him away, but you couldn’t. His touch was tender and serene, not what you would have expected from him. For someone who seemed to enjoy inflicting pain on others, he was treating you as if you were a fine crystal that could break at the slightest rift.

As his hands snaked around your waist, pressing hungry fingers into your skin, you became overcome with guilt. Guilt for what you were allowing to happen. Guilt at your weakness for a pretty face and seductive voice. The gravity of your current position falling hard upon you.

You pulled away, “I shouldn’t have come here tonight,” you whispered out as you turned towards the door again taking several steps away from him.

“You don’t have to go back to them,” John called out from behind you.

You froze in place, your heart crumbling into a million pieces. You would have given anything for that statement to be true, but you knew it would never be. The people of Hope County were seemingly lost without you. You turned back to him, eyes full of regret and pain.

“Everyone needs something from ‘The Deputy’. I have to go.” your voice cracked with almost every word, a broken smile forcing its way across your lips.

\----------

You gave John one last look as you opened the cab of your truck. His hands firmly planted on the railing of the balcony, the small breeze tousling his dark tresses every which way. There was something in his gaze, you couldn’t tell if it was sadness or rage. But you knew there was something there.

You wiped the tears from your face as you hopped into the truck. It wasn’t until the ranch was completely out of sight that you reached for your phone in the glove box.

37 missed calls  
16 voicemails  
21 texts

You threw it to the floorboards.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DONT DRIVE DRUNK IN REAL LIFE!!!!!!!! It's bad and this is a fake story so there won't be any consequences. But it needed to happen here because reasons. 💁

The small cabin that you had been squatting in for the last several weeks finally came into view and you let out a sigh of relief. It was the closest you had come to finding a home in Hope County. It offered you some sense of normalcy. Security.

You wiped the tears from your face once more. You’d been crying the whole drive, unable to get your emotions under control. You weren’t even sure why you were crying. Was it the stress that clung to your shoulders to be the county's savior? Was it that you had to leave John? Or was it from the guilt and confusion that now swam in your blood? Whatever it was, you’d give anything to make it go away.

You stared down to the phone in the floorboards. It had chimed away several times on your short drive. More people asking you to do the unthinkable.

Your hand trembled as you reached down to pick it up. Waking the screen, you were greeted with even more notifications. You heaved a heavy sigh, turning the phone off. You decided that everyone could wait today. You needed to take care of yourself first. You grabbed your pack, throwing the phone to the bottom of it, your pistol and the radio at your side, making your way to your door.

You haphazardly threw everything into the chair by the front door. Complete exhaustion began to overtake you and your feet were dragging as you made your way around the small cabin. Drawing every blind and closing every shade. The darkness crept over your tiny space.

You slowly peeled away your dirty clothing, letting them fall away to the floor. You crawled into the twin size bed in the corner and cocooned yourself in the blankets, clutching the radio to your chest. The tears began to dry as you slowly began to relax into the bed. You brought the receiver to your mouth, still tuned to John’s frequency. As you pressed the broadcast button your voice was frail and weak, you hoped that he was listening.

“Thank you,” soft words full of pain.

Before he could answer, if he was listening, you flicked the radio off and placed it on the nightstand. And then you allowed yourself to drift off to sleep.

\----------

Rolling over, the bright red numbers on the clock read 11:42 pm. You had successfully slept the entire day away. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and turned on the nightstand lamp. Your eyes burned at the sudden intrusion of light in your dark cave.

Your feet fell to the cold floor beneath you, scurring to the cabinet, you reached for the pint of whiskey. It wasn’t the best, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. You let out a frustrated sigh as you dug to the bottom of your pack searching for that wretched phone aswell.

You crawled back onto your bed, one hand curled around the whiskey and another tightly wound around the phone. You unscrewed the lid of the bottle and took a long pull as you stared down at the phone. You wrestled with the choice of turning it on or just letting the world burn around you.

You felt hopeless. Every time that you tried to help, it seemed that you just made a mess of it all. Like everything you touched went to shit. For every act of heroism, the cult seemed to hit back twice as hard. You had seen too many dead bodies, whether from your own actions or some retribution from the heralds.

You took another swig off the bottle before turning the damned thing on. Without giving any time for new notifications to come through, you called your voicemail and listened to message after message. People calling for help, begging you to fix everything for them. What did these people do before you came, you wondered. Did they just live in fear and never leave the house?

You deleted every message after only half listening to them. You didn’t feel any sympathy for those so desperate for your assistance, only pity. You were becoming numb. Numb to everything around you. Feeling foreign in your own body at times.

The only time you had felt right in months was with John last night. He had treated you like a person, not some machine to do his bidding. He had shown you that he _could_ feel for someone other than himself. He could have let you die, by your own hand or even taken your life himself, but he hadn’t.

He had opened his home to you, given you a safe space for the night. Did his best to distract you, which was exactly what you had needed. He listened to you and had actually heard your words. He didn’t judge you in your weakest moment, he didn’t lecture or berate. Just listened.

And when he kissed you…

Your fingers gently traced along your lips. You closed your eyes as you felt the heat flush over your body. You could still smell him, feel his hands on your skin. You bit at your lip wishing that moment hadn’t ended.

You shook yourself back to reality. You shouldn’t be thinking such things about your ‘enemy’. And yet, there you were, wanting to be back in his arms. You frantically reached for the radio on the nightstand, flicking it on once more. And then, you waited.

\----------

You looked at the clock through blurry eyes. 3:27 am and you hadn’t heard a thing except static. You had carelessly finished off your pint of whiskey and struggled slightly to stay conscious.

You scoulded yourself for being silly. Thinking that John would call out to you was absurd. It had all been a facade, you decided in your drunken state. A way to weasel into your head. He was a master manipulator after all. Yeah, that was what he was doing. Manipulating you and preying upon your weakness. Nothing more.

Your throat began to tighten and you couldn’t breathe. You were suffocating. You needed out. You needed to get away from this place. Away from all of this.

You stumbled as you stood from the bed. All that alcohol on an empty stomach had been a poor choice, but you pushed on, throwing the few cherished possesions you couldn’t leave behind into your pack. Slinging it over your shoulder, you almost fell over. You steadied yourself and took a long, deep breath.

‘You can do this,’ you thought, ‘You’re just a little drunk.’

You squinted at the bed, trying to focus on the phone and radio there. As you struggled to concentrate on the two objects in front of you, your phone lit up and your annoying ringtone began to blare out. It was Whitehorse.

You drunken instincts took over and you picked up the phone, throwing it across the room. You watched as it collided with your mirror and everything shattered into a million pieces. You froze, starring down at the mess of broken glass and the now silent phone. You reached for the radio on the bed, shoving it into your pack and heading for the door.

It seemed you had made your final decision.

\----------

You were being totally reckless as you got behind the wheel of your truck, but you didn’t care anymore. You were no longer scared to die, almost welcoming it with open arms.

The engine roared to life. You spoke your quiet goodbyes to the tiny cabin as it fell out of view, thanking it for being your temporary sanctuary. You found your way to the main road and began heading north. Your train of thought being to scale the western mountains and make your break for it. For freedom.

The roads were empty as you cautiously made your way. You thanked whatever deity was responsible. Even if you didn’t care about living, the thought of taking an innocent life out with you left a sour taste in your mouth.

You crossed into the Whitetails not long after, pulling your truck over to the side of the road. You left the keys in the ignition as you climbed out of the cab. You were sad to leave her behind, this truck had served you well, always reliable. But now it was time.

You swayed slightly as you put your pack on, still very much intoxicated. You gathered your bearings and headed west. Your strides were clumsy and uncoordinated as you trekked along, even falling down a few times. Each time you brought yourself to your feet and marched on. You mumbled to yourself to keep moving, just put one foot in front of the other. You were determined to get out, to escape from all the chaos around you. The looming mountains in front of you your path to freedom.

You pressed your back to the tree, stopping for a moment to catch your breath. You had been on the trail long enough to know that you should be alone. So when you heard a twig snap behind you, your heart began to race. Someone had followed you somehow. A string of curse words left your mouth as you darted off in an unknown direction.

You could hear your would-be stalker take off behind you as well.

‘One foot in front of the other,’ you kept telling yourself, ‘Just keep moving. Don’t stop. You’re so close...’

The pain that ripped through your shoulder sent you tumbling to the ground with a loud thud. You gasped as the wind was knocked out of your lungs. You rolled to your stomach, grasping at the dirt, trying to push yourself to your feet.

“No, no, no, no…” you panted out as the stars and butterflies began to cloud your vision. You listened as the heavy footsteps grew closer, your fingers clawing at the dirt to escape.

The strong hand that wrapped around your ankle jerked you back. You screamed out and began to flail at your attacker. Even in your intoxicated state, you weren’t going down without a fight.

The heavy knee that fell between your shoulders trapped you to the ground, halting your protests. Your captor's hot breath tickled at your earlobe.

“Don’t fight it. It’s easier to just give in…” he cooed at you.

And with one last pathetic whimper, you closed your eyes and floated away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? I wanted the character to be drunk to make sense of the doubt of John and how easily they are captured. And if they had been smart and walked to the Whitetails, they could have sobered up some. Can't have that, now can we?


	4. Chapter 4

Coming back to consciousness, your body ached and your head was pounding. You tried to shield your eyes from the burning rays of sunshine that beat down over you. You struggled as you stretched out your sore limbs, feeling the dirt shift beneath you. You let out a groan as you peeled your eyes open. You could feel the bile rising in your throat as you took in your surroundings.

A fucking cage.

You held back the scream that wanted to rip from your lips. You knew it would be futile though. And would only satisfy Jacob even more than your capture. Smug bastard.

The cages around you were empty which brought you a sense of relief. No one to push for you to make a plan. No one to push for you to be their savior. You were almost thankful to Jacob. Your isolation being exactly what you needed.

You propped your back to the bars of your confinement. You surveyed your environment as you shook the fog from your head. You were deep in the maze of cages at the Veterans Center. It was difficult to make anything out around you through the jumbled mess of bars. Cages stacked on top of one another.

You rose to your feet and tried to drown out the throbbing in your head. ‘No more whiskey,’ you thought to yourself. Nausea overwhelmed you, forcing a few dry retches from you. You let out a frustrated groan.

The chipped paint on the bars was rough on your fingers as you braced against them, staggering to the front of the cage. Peering left, then right, you saw nothing, only more cages. You were truly all alone.

Outside of your isolation, you could hear the muffled noises of the Center brimming with activity. Voices would trail in and out, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t make out a word they said.

You made your way to the back of the cage, slumping yourself into the corner. You knew it would only be a matter of time before Jacob would come by to gloat about your capture. And so, you waited.

\----------

You felt the ground rumble with each of his heavy footsteps. You straightened up, cracking your neck side to side. You hugged your knees closer to your chest, waiting for the barbarian to reach you. You began to tremble as the steps grew near.

He strolled up to your cage with an air of excitement. His eyes burned into you as he glared through the bars to your fragile frame in the corner.

“Deputy,” he spoke with all the condescension in the world. His arms slung through the bars and rested on his forearms. “I was surprised to hear of the little show you put on for us. Never pegged you for the sloppy drunk type.” The grin that spread across his lips made your stomach turn.

“I’ve never been good at holding my liquor,” you said softly with a pained smile on your face.

The brisk breeze kicked up again and you felt your skin prickle at the cold. You shifted slightly, trying to hold on to any warmth you could.

“Why drink then, huh?” Jacob studied you intently. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, “You set yourself up for failure. Maybe even death,” he snarled through clenched teeth. Behind his eyes raged a searing fire, but you refused to turn away, holding his intense focus.

You slowly pushed yourself to your feet never breaking you gaze and began to move towards Jacob. You watched as his body tensed and he tried to hide it with his laid back demeanor. Your footsteps were light and fluid. The nearer you got to him, the more you could sense his unease. His back straightened and he withdrew his arms from their resting spot between the bars. Though he would never admit it to another soul, he took a step back, putting space between him and your cage.

“Do you wanna know why I did such a stupid thing?” Your words were soft and delicate.

Jacob's lack of response wasn’t unexpected. He was a man of few words.

“I did it because I don’t care anymore,” you said flatly. You watched as the confusion began to swirl in his eyes, and the slight tick to his lips, like the rug had just been pulled out from under him.

“I don’t care what happens to me. I don’t give a flying fuck what happens to you,” you said with a weak smile, “And I couldn’t care what happens to anyone in this county to be honest.”

You had been broken. Torn down to your core. And the greedy hands of everyone around you had snatched away anything you had left to give, leaving you with nothing for yourself. You had been drained and left to rot away. Alone.

Your eyes fell to the pistol strapped to Jacobs thigh. The red eyesore that matched his rifle. “So why don’t you do us all a favor and take that pretty little pistol on your thigh and put an end to all of this,” you whispered out, “Put me out of my misery.”

Jacob crossed his arms over his barrel chest and cocked his head to the side. You watched as the wheels began to turn in his twisted little mind. Jacob looked down at his pistol on his thigh and then back to you. You felt the air become thick as he rolled the idea around in his head. The thought of killing you brought him great joy if the smile across his lips was any indicator.

You heard the snap of the holster freeing the pistol. Watched as he raised it up, chambering a bullet. You stared down the barrel of the gun and closed your eyes. You took one last breath and held it in, waiting for the darkness to overtake you.

“Nah, not today, kid. Joseph has other plans for you.” Jacob placed the gun back into the holster and seemingly vanished from view.

You crumbled to the ground, a mess of tears and heartbreak.

\----------

Jacob sat at his desk staring at your pack in front of him. He had instructed the Chosen that had brought you in to leave it in his office. He wanted to personally go through it this time.  


His fingers traced along the zipper ripping it open as your belongings spilled out before him. Your radio being the last thing you’d thrown in there, it was the first thing to come tumbling out. He examined it briefly before turning it on. Your annoying cutesy sticker bomb on it made him baulk in disgust. How childish. He left it set to the frequency it was on, hoping someone from the resistance would call out to you. Maybe they would slip up and give away some vital intel before they realized you weren’t available. The static from the radio was the only sound swirling around his office.

You hadn’t packed much. A few items of clothing, some small rations, ammo, and a handful of pictures from happier times. Jacob began to thumb through them roughly.

The pictures were almost a flipbook of your steady decline. Beginning with you all smiles with your friends at the Spread Eagle. Then some from your camping trip with Hurk and Sharky, still all smiles. Those were from before all of this.

As he thumbed through more, he noticed it. Ever so slight at first, but as he continued, it became glaringly obvious. In each picture, your smile began to fade and the look on your face became more somber. The light that once shown brightly in your eyes began to disappear. Until he came to the last photo in the pile.

The burned silo behind you was still smoldering and all the elated faces posed in front of it made Jacobs blood boil. It had to have been from a week ago. John had called him sometime last week to bitch that one of his silos had been destroyed.

As Jacob’s gaze fell to you in the photo, he began to really see it. Your eyes were empty and there was only a blank expression on your face. No smile. And no light in your eyes.

It all began to click for him. These people were running you ragged. Taking everything out of you. Draining you dry. It all made sense to him now.

You asking him to kill you wasn’t a game or some part of a grander scheme. It was you truly asking to be relieved of your burden. You were a trapped animal looking for any way out. Even if that meant death.  


Jacob leaned back in his chair, throwing the photos to his desk. He began to dissect everything before him. You were broken. And he could use it against you. His previous plan for your trials seemed a moot point now. He had found a new path to go down.

The radio sprang to life.

“Charlie?”

A familiar voice rang out in the silence.

“Charlie, please talk to me.”

Jacob could only stare at the radio as John’s words floated through the air. He sounded so desperate to talk to whoever this Charlie was.

“I just need to know you’re ok…”

Jacob fought the urge to grab the radio and demand to know who, exactly, John thought he was talking to. Instead, he let John continue to babble on. As his words spilled out, Jacob began to put it all together. He was a smart man and John had never been good at subtlety.

You.

You were Charlie.

John was calling out to you.

\----------

The freezing water splashed over you, pulling you from your slumber. You screamed out at the shock of it. Your body trembled as you tried to come to your senses. You wiped the frigid water from your eyes and were greeted by the site of your captor, mouth turned into a wolf's grin. The bucket that once held the water still in his hand.

“Good. You’re awake,” he spoke calmly. He flipped the bucket over and placed it to the ground at the entrance of your cage. He sat down, making himself comfortable on his perch.

“Anything you wanna tell me?” he asked sternly, like a father grilling his child over their weekend exploits.

You pressed your trembling body to the back corner of your cage. You struggled to catch a full breath from the shock of the water. Your teeth began to chatter and you couldn’t hold back the convulsions running through you.

“I’m not...giving up...the Wolfs Den.” You forced the words out between shivers.

Jacob leaned forward, resting his elbows to his knees. He took a long inhale in and let it out slowly.

“Not what I want right now,” his jaw clenched slightly and he cocked his head to the side.

You curled into a tight ball, trying to hold on to whatever body heat you could. And to shrink away from the barbarian sizing you up.

“Then what do you want from me?” You closed your eyes, wishing that everything would just disappear.

Jacob scrutinized your every movement. His eyes never left your form. His calm exterior contradicted the storm that raged behind his gaze.

“What went on between you and my brother?” he asked.

With your eyes still closed, you furrowed your brow and swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you lied through your teeth.

Jacob let out a huff of amusement.

“Sure you do...Charlie.”

Your eyes shot open and you stifled the gasp that wanted to claw from your throat. Hearing your name pour from his lips was jarring and completely unexpected. A chill ran down your spine that wasn’t from the cold water or weather.

“How…” you struggled to compose yourself. Your mind running a million miles a minute. “How do you know that name?” you forced every ounce of conviction in your words.

Jacob saw right through it.

He straightened up and pulled the radio from his back pocket. You could spot your sticker bomb a mile away and you let out an exasperated huff. You knew it was still tuned to John’s frequency.

“John’s been looking for you,” he said with a smile.

Your heart threatened to burst from your chest. What had Jacob heard? How much did he know? What had John divulged in his attempt to reach you?

“So what happened?” Jacob's gruff voice brought you back to reality.

You heaved a heavy sigh, fighting back the tears, “Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing to John,” he said flatly. Always the protective older brother.

“What happened between me and your brother is none of your concern,” you choked out.

“Well, I’m making it my concern,” Jacob bellowed out, “You fuck with John, and you fuck with me.” His eyes grew a dark shade of cobalt and ominous. Jacob was the family's protector. His life dedicated to them. He wasn’t too keen on anyone but him getting below people's skin. He wasn’t going to let you manipulate his brother.

“I called out to him in a moment of weakness,” you could feel Jacob’s frustration ripple through the air. “And he used it against me.” You wiped at the tears that were falling from your eyes.

Jacob jumped to his feet, kicking the bucket behind him and gripping tightly at the bars of your cage. His knuckles quickly lost color.

“There’s more to it than that. I heard it in his voice!” he roared out, causing you to flinch. “You so much as hurt one hair on him and I will come for you. Personally. And I will be the one to snuff out the light in your eyes. Regardless of the plans Joseph has for you! Do you understand?” he spoke through gritted teeth.

The hollow look in your eyes was all Jacob needed. He watched as your body began to crumble in on itself, collapsing to the dirt below. You curled in on yourself and tried to hide the tears streaming down your face. You were shutting down.

“Gonna ignore me now, Deputy?” he reached into the camo BDU top that he always wore producing the small music box. “That’s ok,” he began to slowly twist the key, “I’ll just have to remind you who’s in control here.”

As the notes began to dance in your ears and the tunnel vision closed in, you caught one last look at Jacob. He was smiling like the Devil.


	5. Chapter 5

A young couple found you on the side of the road near the northern border of the Holland Valley. They had seen you shambling along the road and had stopped their car when you collapsed to the ground. You were covered in blood and barely breathing. You weren’t wearing the uniform of a Peggie so they quickly rushed you to someone they trusted. 

Pastor Jerome and Mary Mae were taken aback at the state you were in. They hadn’t seen you after one of Jacob’s trials before. You usually would make your way to the Wolf’s Den after each episode, but this time you had been heading south. They assumed you were trying to get as far away from Jacob as you could. 

They had set you up in the abandoned house across the street from the Spread Eagle. Jerome had given Mary Mae privacy to clean and dress your frail body. He had made himself useful by stocking the fridge with a few things and making sure that you would be safe in your new surroundings.

That was four days ago. You hadn’t moved around much since, mostly locking yourself away in the bedroom of the house. Mary Mae and Jerome didn’t push you to talk, though you almost wished they did. That they showed you some compassion for what you had just been through. They had to have heard the stories about Jacob’s trials. About how brutal and torturous they could be on a person. The psychological damage that was slowly being done to you. They had to know, right? But the question that truly ate away at you was, do they even care? Or did they only care about how useful you could be to them? 

When your mind tried to wander to thoughts of John, you scolded yourself. You told yourself that what had happened between you and John was just a moment of weakness, a fleeting desire to feel heard by someone. Nothing more. 

But then, Jacob’s words would ring through your head. How he could hear in John’s voice that it meant something to him, that John wanted to talk to you about it...

The gentle knock on the door caught you by surprise. 

“Hey Deputy, we could really use your help with something, if you’re up to it,” Mary Mae spoke through the door.

“Um, yeah...sure. I’ll be over in a minute,” you stammered out. 

You heard as she made her way through the house and back to the Spread Eagle. You pushed up from the bed and checked yourself in the mirror. You tried fruitlessly to finger-comb your ratty hair out. And were sad to see the large dark bags under your eyes that seemed like they were a permanent fixture on your face now. You dressed quickly and made your way across the street.

\----------

“So, the sermon is scheduled to begin at 10 am tomorrow, I say we hit the church at 10:15, that way everyone should be in and seated,” Mary Mae spoke with such conviction, it was almost terrifying.

“What exactly is the plan then?” you asked from across the bar. 

Mary Mae gave Jerome a quick glance before answering you. “We’re gonna place some charges around the outside and blow the whole thing up. Hopefully taking out everyone inside, including John.” 

It took you a moment to fully process what they were suggesting. “But tomorrow is their Sunday service, there will be children there,” you protested. You couldn’t hide the look of shock on your face. Were they really talking about killing innocent children? It wasn’t their fault that they had been brought into the folds of Eden’s Gate. They were at the mercy of their parent's decisions. 

“Collateral damage,” Grace mumbled out from her spot at the bar. You shot her a look of disgust before turning your attention back to the ringleaders of this horrifying plan.

“Jerome! You can’t seriously be onboard with this?!?” 

He avoided your burning gaze, looking to Mary Mae for backup, as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It will be quick. No one will even know what happened. They won’t feel anything.”

“I...Like, I really can’t...I don’t agree…” you couldn’t even form the words to describe how repulsed you were at that moment. You had done some terrible things in the name of the Resistance, but murdering innocent children was not going to be one of them. 

You scanned the faces of those people before you, searching for any hint of remorse for what they were planning to do. For any minuscule amount of regret. Their cold eyes the only answer you found. 

You stood from your place at the bar, grabbed one of the radios from the countertop, and headed for the exit.

“Where are you going?” Jerome called out 

“I need to talk to someone and clear my head,” you slammed the door shut behind you.

\----------

You made your way south, heading towards the river. You were always drawn to bodies of water when you needed clarity and peace. You desperately tried to feel anything, sat on the rocky shoreline with your toes dipped into the frigid waters. The sun shone brightly above you lighting up the trees in an Autumnal fire. The air was cold and you could faintly see your breath with every exhale. 

A flock of geese flew overhead, no doubt making their way to warmer climates for the winter. You caught a glimpse of a black bear across the river chasing down a deer. A random fish would break the surface of the water every so often, bug catching. It was quiet. Peaceful.

“John...Are you there?” the radio clutched between two trembling hands.

Moments passed and your heart began to crumble the longer you went without an answer. It had been almost a week since that night and you wondered if John’s passing fancy in you had run its course. 

But then your radio crackled to life.

“Deputy,” his voice as smooth as silk.

“Are we back to formalities already?” a small pain in your heart at not hearing your name from his lips. 

“Well,” you could hear the venom in his words, “I open my home to you and treat you with nothing but the utmost respect, and I’m given nothing in return. Not even a thank you. All I got was your silence. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute, won’t you?” 

You hated that he was right and that you now felt the need to defend yourself to the man you were supposed to be hunting down and bringing to justice. 

“I made a poor judgment call and spent some time in a cage up north. Your brother wasn’t as gracious of a host, wouldn’t let me near a radio,” you chuckled lightly, “And then I spent four days locked in a room by myself trying to find a reason to go on…” The silence hung heavy in the air. It felt like an eternity before he responded.

“I see,” John's voice sounded a little softer than before.

“Jacob...he knows that something happened...between us…” The silence made your blood as cold as the air that danced around you. Devoid of any wind the leaves hung limp until they fell of their own accord, there was no whispering noise or rustling. It was as if nature conspired to keep you in the dark, refusing to whisper the reassurance you craved. 

“Where are you?” John’s voice sounded agitated for the first time, “This isn’t a conversation we should be having over the radio.” 

“Right,” you sighed out, “Go to the river and follow it east, you’ll find me.”

It wasn’t long before you heard the dry grass crunching behind you. John was a fast walker when he was truly motivated to be one. A string of curse words left his lips as his expensive shoes sank into the muddy shore, where he planted himself next to you on the ground.

Neither of you spoke, you just took in the beauty around you. The trees swayed and rustled in the wind, shaking loose some of the red leaves from their branches. They drifted slowly to the ground and shoreline in front of you, delicately dancing on the water's surface with barely a ripple. 

“Your sermon tomorrow,” you were the first to speak, “You need to cancel it. Don’t let anyone near the church.”

“And why is that?” he sounded surprised that you even knew about it.

“The Resistance, they’re…” you swallowed hard, “They’re going to do something terrible. To you and everyone in that church. And they don’t care who is in there, as long as they kill you.” You pulled your fingers from the water and placed your hand on his. “I can’t, I can’t let them hurt children. The lines are beginning to blur for me. I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore really, but I do know killing kids is just...It’s not something I can do.” 

John gazed across the river, deep in thought, intentionally crafting his response. 

“Have you ever stopped to think? Truly think, if you are fighting on the right side?” He asked lacing his fingers into yours. “Children are one of God’s many miracles. And to have no regard for their innocence doesn’t seem right to me.” 

The sun was quickly descending down past the mountains and a chill swept over the area. Darkness would soon overtake you, leading into a cold night. You could feel the heat radiating from John, he had been wise in wearing his heavy aviator themed coat. The little white planes set starkly over the blue denim. 

You looked to your hands woven together. And it felt right. It was the first sense of calm and security you had felt since all this began. 

“Give me one week of your time. One week to show you that the Project is the right side,” John’s voice was low, as smooth as rich honey, goading you into saying Yes like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“I think you’re all bark and no bite,” You raised your eyebrows, trying to look unaffected by his charm, hating how you knew you weren’t.

John smiled wickedly, “Oh, I definitely bite.” 

Your cheeks flushed a thousand shades of red and you couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face.

“Come,” John said as he lifted himself to his feet, “It’s getting dark and we should make use of the fire I have going at the ranch.” his hands outstretched to help you to your feet.

You shivered slightly once you stood erect, all of the heat you had been holding in your curled up position disappeared, you wrapped your arms around yourself. John took notice and quickly shrugged off his extravagant coat and draped it over your shoulders.

“Better?”

“Yes,” you smiled at him, taking in the smell of expensive cologne that emanated from the coat, “Thank you.”

“See? A ‘thank you’ wasn’t that hard now, was it?” he said with a smirk. He took your hand in his and began to lead you back to the ranch.


	6. Chapter 6

As you walked along the river's edge, hand in hand with John, his coat draped over your shoulders like a high school boyfriends letterman jacket, a funny notion crept into your mind. John had missed his perfect opportunity to make you say Yes to him. After browbeating you for months with his incessant ramblings about The Power of Yes, you hadn’t explicitly said Yes to going back to his ranch, he had just assumed and began leading you back. You wondered if he had just missed the moment or if it was a conscious decision on his part. Either way, you knew there was no turning back as his ostentatious home came into view.

You wished you had your camera on you. The look on the Peggies faces upon seeing you and John walk up to the grounds hand in hand was priceless. His coat flapping away at your sides only adding to their confusion. John didn’t speak a word to anyone as he led you up the stairs through the front entrance. The normal hustle and bustle of the ranch seemed to quiet, you swore you could hear a pin drop, no one dared make a move as they watched you enter John's home, willingly, for a second time.

Once inside, John had made fast work of canceling the service for the following day, telling Joseph that he was ill and needed the week to recover, freeing up his own time as well as seemingly covering all the bases for your week-long sabbatical from being ‘The Deputy’. He instructed all of his guards, in person, that there was to be absolutely no radio chatter about you being there, one word from any of them over the air was a death sentence. And he would show no mercy, even to his most devoted.

He sent some of the followers to prepare a room for you, the one next to his, with anything a lady guest would need. He even asked your clothing sizes to have some brought in for you, promising that you would wake up to a whole wardrobe if you wanted it. You declined politely stating that just some simple jeans and t-shirts, maybe a nice winter coat, would be more than enough, but did ask specifically for some nice new boots. The ones you had been wearing for the past several months were falling apart at the seams and you knew that the snow would begin falling soon, having dry feet would be of the utmost concern.

You sat by the crackling fire together until the late hours of the evening just...talking. Almost as if you were two normal people.

You learned a lot about John in those hours. From his less than stellar childhood to his over the top time as a lawyer in Atlanta. With all the outrageous stories he regaled you with, he didn’t hold back the dark times, recessing back into himself when he spoke of the things he was no longer proud of. The drug use, the womanizing, and all the despicable things he had done. He was open with you and you felt like he wasn’t holding anything back. Any question you asked he seemed to answer in an honest way, making him seem more...human.

His demeanor changed when he began to recount the tale of Joseph finding him there. He said that he knew instantly that he was meant to be with Joseph and to help him save all the souls they could. How, in the instant, he laid eyes on his brother once again everything changed, that everything would be ok, that all the emptiness that he had felt his whole life had finally been filled with the love of his brother. Even more so once they had found Jacob together. He had felt complete for the first time since they were so viscously torn apart as children.

It pulled at your heart. You knew that hollow, empty feeling all too well. It had haunted you since childhood as well. You had a healthy and mostly happy childhood. Nothing compared to the Seed siblings, but you still struggled none the less. That sly, conniving little voice that dwelled in the back of your head, whispering to you that you weren’t good enough or smart enough or capable enough. Could you ever be enough for anyone? Would you ever be enough for yourself?

You almost felt selfish speaking of your struggles when his were so astronomically worse. But he was patient with you, hanging on every word like it was the most important thing you would ever say to him, assuring you that every pain you felt was valid. Just because he’d had it worse didn’t negate what you had been through.

When the fire began to dwindle to embers and the stars had begun their morning retreat, John escorted you to the room he had prepared. The one next to his.

“My room is that one,” he said pointing down the balcony to the only other door, “I usually lock my door, but won’t with you here, in case you need anything in the night. Please, don’t hesitate to knock, you are my guest and I want to see to your _every_ need.” The words slipped from his mouth so casually, but you could sense what he was implying and a rush of heat surged through your body. Your cheeks and chest must have flushed a million shades of red.

“It’s incredible,” he said as his eyes gazed over your skin.

“What’s that?” you asked with a gentle smile.

John brought his hand to your cheek, closing the space between you, “You’re even more beautiful when you blush,” he whispered out before his lips glided to yours. He was soft with you once more, touching you as if you would turn to dust and slip from his fingers at any moment.

You had always thought that he wouldn’t hold back like he was. That he would take what he wanted. He would be aggressive and dominant, but you actually found this softer side of him so much more endearing. That he really did understand you and wanted to be there for you. That you weren’t alone in Hope County anymore.

John pulled away, resting his forehead to yours, “Sleep well tonight, I have much to show you tomorrow.” You nodded at him meekly before opening your new room and stepping inside.

It was beautiful and more than you deserved.

\----------

Oh, if you could just live in that shower, large enough for more than two people and with every nice smelling toiletry known to man. The hot water that rained down on you from the overhead shower nozzle felt heaven-sent and you watched as all the grime of the day washed down the drain. You couldn’t remember the last shower you had that you could just relax. Everywhere you had been staying or squatting in had short, lukewarm showers. Ten minutes of warmish water, _if_ you were lucky, but John’s shower, the hot water never seemed to end.

Your thoughts began to wander to the man in the room next to you. The charming snake-oil salesman with sultry eyes, chiseled physique, perfect appearance, and a voice like honey.

When you thought of his soft lips on yours, your stomach began doing flips, like a little school girl with her first crush. You bit at your lip as you thought about it more. You wondered what it would feel like to have his hands all over you, touching you in ways only he could. How glorious it would be to have him inside you, claiming you as his alone. Your fingers dipped between your legs, rolling gentle circles around your clit as your mind pictured it. You let out a whimper as the circles grew smaller and faster bringing you over the edge quickly.

You opened your eyes and let out a feverish laugh.

The first time you had even thought to tend to your own desires, in who knows how long, and your mind had instantly gone to him for pleasure.

The snake-oil salesman had set up residence in your mind without so much as a small protest from you.

And you couldn't wait to hear his sales pitch.


	7. Chapter 7

“John! If you do one more barrel roll, so help me!” 

“Come now!” he replied, “I’ve seen what you can do in a plane. Don’t go soft on me now,” the left wing began to dip towards the water once again.

The Affirmation swirled into another strong barrel roll as you watched the water below you magically roll over the top of you and your hair tickled at the glass above your head. You let out a soft squeal at the flips your stomach was doing. You wished so badly that you could see the grin that you knew was plastered all over his beautiful, smug face. His occasional glances over his shoulder back at you were enough to light something inside of you. 

John leveled out the plane once again, setting it to a gentle cruising speed as you floated over the valley below. The sunlight sparkled off the water below you, rolling like a sea of diamonds. The crisp chill in the air prickled at your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, nuzzling into the security of the glorious coat John had provided for you. 

“It’s so beautiful here,” you said softly, placing your fingers to the window.

“Just wait till you see the snow. It’s truly enchanting. Like something straight out of Narnia.”

“I can’t wait to see it.”

\-----------

The plane wheels touched the ground and slowly came to a stop. John's landing had been exceptionally gentle, he knew the plane like the back of his own hand. He quickly jumped out of the driver's seat onto the wing and extended his hand out to you, helping you to climb out of the back. He was the first to jump down from the wing. He turned to you, taking your hands in his and helping you to the ground. 

“Do you start every day with an adrenaline rush like this?” you asked.

“Only when the occasion calls for it,” he smiled down at you. He wrapped your arm in his and began to lead you towards the hall of the ranch. 

It impressed you how little regard John gave to the consternate expressions of his followers as you passed by them. The man really had no shame. 

Once in the doors, he reached to take your coat from your shoulders and hung it on the coat rack. For being a man so on the verge of exploding in fits of rage, he had impeccable manners and was chivalrous. Once more, serving for you to see him as more human than monster. 

The fire was in full roar and had warmed the room comfortably. You took the same seat you had last night, the overstuffed chair next to the fire, John placed himself on the couch next to it. You reveled in the silence of the room, only the occasional pop or crack from the fire cutting through it like soft butter. 

“So,” you finally broke the silence, “What do you do all day, usually? I wanna know the ins and outs of your role in this...whole thing.”

“Honestly?” he queried, “As little as possible,” he let out a low chuckle. You smiled brightly, letting out your own laugh. The light of the fire danced in his eyes, flickering like waves of molten lava, alluring to look at but deadly to touch. “In reality, I’m just the PR guy and the Project's personal piggy bank.” 

“Are you happy in that role?”

John's face softened as he went deep into his own thoughts. It was easy enough to see as anguish washed over him slowly. He let out a small sigh as he turned to you.

“Are you happy in your role in all of this?” he asked with a raised brow.

“You’re deflecting,” you chided.

John breathed in deeply, “Still stubborn as ever I see.” A slight grin cracked at his lips. You stared him down, refusing to look away until he answered your question. His eyes burned into you, “You aren’t going to let this go till I answer, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you spoke quietly but firmly, “It’s a simple question, really.”

John turned his gaze to the fire once more, deep in thought. You watched as he wrestled with his inner demons, searching for the ‘right’ answer. “Full disclosure?” he looked back to you, “No. I’m not happy with my life. But this is what Joseph needs from me. He and Jacob are all I have in this world.”

Your heart crumbled at his words. Watching the silver-tongued Baptist show such vulnerability with you was a magical moment. You were finally beginning to see the real person beneath the mask he had so perfectly crafted for himself. You could feel as the air in the grand room changed to something...heavier. 

You slowly stood from your chair and moved to be at John’s side, wrapping his arm around you as you perched yourself next to him on the couch in a ball. The faint gasp that left his lips at your sudden contact didn’t go unnoticed by you. 

“I’m not happy either,” you whispered out as you lay your head against his chest, “You know, I transferred here because I thought it would be a walk in the park. I could move out here and get away from it all. Maybe write up some hunting violations or DUII’s to the local old drunks. I never thought I’d have to pull out my service weapon, let alone, take on a whole faction of people by myself.” You tilted your face slightly to look into his eyes, studying every line and crease in his skin. “How do we do it? How do we reconcile the people we’ve become with the future we always dreamed of for ourselves?”

John's grip tightened around you and he heaved a heavy sigh. 

“We don’t. We are monsters of our own creation,” his thumb gently swirled circles on your arm, “Born of necessity, really. We’ve become what we had to in order to survive our circumstances.” 

“Well, that’s only slightly depressing, I guess,” you tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t hold back the giggle that left your mouth. John let out his own laugh with you. It felt amazing to laugh with him, to feel human for a moment like you could almost forget about the Holy War raging right outside the doors of his ranch. 

As you both regained your composure, John gazed down at you wrapped in his arm and his eyes changed into something...softer than you had seen in him before.

“It’s a little less depressing with you around, though,” he spoke softly as he stroked your cheek that was now flushed. You didn’t try to hide the smile that crept its way across your lips as you lost yourself in the ocean of his eyes. There was a storm raging behind them and you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself to the mercy of his tempestuous waves of madness.

Your lips were colliding with his before you could even think about the movement, your body had taken over and your mind was late to the party. There was an ache to your kiss as if you had been starved from this feeling your whole life. John’s gluttonous hands were on you in a moment, pulling you on top of him, straddling his waist. 

It was a flurry of breathless pants and wanton moans as your hands trailed over the wool vest and silk shirt he was wearing, his hands pawing at the hem of your shirt and waistband of your jeans, threatening to rip the material right off of your body. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” John asked with a low, husky growl between kisses.

The word came spilling from your mouth without hesitation. “Yes,” you purred. 

His eyes grew the size of dinner plates at your breathy moan. He swiftly moved you to your back on the couch pressing his full weight into your body. You mewled under him as you felt the hardening bulge in his pants. 

There was a loud bang on the door. 

You both froze, staring wide-eyed at one another. 

“John, sir? The Father is here to see you.” You listened as the Peggie outside tried to open the door only to be greeted by it being locked. 

John was on his feet and straightening his clothing before you knew what was happening. He ran his hand through his dark tresses and motioned for you to do much of the same. 

“Stay here,” he instructed as he made his way towards the door, quickly exiting and closing it behind him. 

You sat on the couch for what seemed like forever. The small bits and pieces you heard of their conversation on the front porch was something along the lines of Joseph wanting to check on John and see if he was feeling better. John was trying to placate Joseph and was failing miserably. Joseph kept insisting that he needed to come in to make sure John had everything he needed to work from home for the week. That his work was important to the Project, even a few days without him would be detrimental. After floundering for a few more moments, John was somehow able to convince Joseph he had everything under control, even with being ‘under the weather’. 

You listened as the convoy that had brought Joseph in made their way back down the long winding dirt road away from the ranch, heaving the biggest sigh of relief. 

You wondered which version of John would come walking back through those doors.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to @jacrispea for fastly becoming my new friend and giving some great advice!

After his little chat with Joseph, John had quickly ushered you out of the ranch claiming it was far too crowded today and he wanted to get out for a bit. He had driven you here himself, turning away his normal driver. The way the Peggie reacted told you this was something of a big deal. Everyone seemed to treat John with kid gloves even though he was a perfectly capable person. You wondered if John revered in it or hated it with a passion.

“It’s so beautiful up here.” Your eyes scanned the horizon taking in the true beauty of Hope County. From your vantage point at the Yes sign on the mountain, you could see the vast expanse of the land around you. Watched as the trees swayed slightly in the cold breeze, leaves gently gliding to the ground below them.

“This is my own little getaway. Whenever I need a moment to myself, I come here.” John's eyes were captivated by you. Your stark silhouette against the beauty of the county was truly a sight to see.

“Do you bring all your conquests up here?” you asked casually.

“Only the ones I like,” he said without missing a beat. The sly grin he gave you made you weak in the knees and signaled to you that he was joking.

“Are you always so charming?”

John clicked his tongue, “Only when I _really_ want something.” His energy changed so quickly from joking around to seduction mode, you almost couldn’t keep up. The pitch of his voice lowered and his eyes zeroed in on you, burning into your flesh. The slight flick of his tongue wetting his lips sent a shiver through you.

But just as quickly as the fire began to rage inside you, it was quickly tampered out by the thought of John with someone else in his special place. Not that you had any place to be laying claim to him in that way. A tinge of unwarranted jealousy plunged through your veins like hot coals. You refused to be just another warm hole for him to abuse.

“Is that all you want me here for? To get your dick wet and put another notch in your bedpost?” The words spilled from your mouth before you could wrangle them away.

John grimaced at your words.

“If all I wanted was to have you in my bed, I could have arranged that a long time ago. Whether you wanted it or not,” he let out a snarl at those words, “But that’s not the man I am. Not anymore, at least,” he looked to you, eyes pleading for you to believe him. “The stories I told you are who I used to be. Allow me to show you who I am now.”

“You’re right,” you heaved a heavy sigh, “I shouldn’t assume like that, I just get too in my own head sometimes.”

John pressed into your back, wrapping his arms around you in a warm cocoon. He nuzzled into your neck, his warm breath caressing you chilled skinned.

“I won’t deny my want for you, but it’s more than just your body. I saw it that first night in the church. A certain...ferocity in your eyes. The way you carried yourself trying so hard to not show an ounce of fear. It was simply magnificent to witness,” he began peppering soft kisses against your skin. “I knew you were a force to be reckoned with, to never underestimate you. I was in utter awe.”

You closed your eyes and allowed your head to roll back onto his shoulder, indulging in his intimate contact. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched you like this, made you feel this safe. The most shocking thing to you was...it didn’t feel wrong. On the contrary, being with John made you feel at peace. It felt like a meant to be.

“I knew at that moment I wanted...no, I needed you to be mine. I watched you rampage through our lands, destroying everything in your path. It was enchanting. The raw, visceral rage that boiled just beneath your surface was much like mine. You could be my equal. You could stand at my side through the gates of Eden.”

John’s validation was intoxicating. After having everyone in the county doubt and question your abilities, you were drunk off his words and putty in his hands.

The sun was beginning to dip in the sky, moving towards its resting place on the horizon. The air becoming colder by the second. But you felt fire wherever he touched you.

“We should go back to the ranch, it’s getting late,” you leaned your face in bringing your mouth to his ear, “And I want to see your bedroom.”

—————

 

John wasted no time in pulling you onto the bed. Silk sheets and expensive cologne surrounded you. His lips crashed against yours in such desperation, hands grabbing at every inch of you. You moaned against his lips as he rocked against you, feeling exactly how much he wanted you. You pushed back against him, arching into his every move.

He grabbed the hem of your shirt, ripping it over your head and throwing it to the floor. Your fingers quickly wrestled with the buttons of his shirt, exposing his lithe body to you for the first time. The intricate and solid tattoos that littered his skin were absolutely beautiful to you. Each one carrying its own story and meaning. You wanted to ask about each and every one but that would have to wait.

John snapped the back of your bra with a nimbleness you had never seen before, tossing it aside casually. His eyes scanned your exposed flesh taking all your beauty in. His mouth quickly found the pink bud of your nipple, swirling his tongue so expertly around it. Soft moans left your lips with every flick against you.

“Tell me you want this,” he growled against your chest.

“Yes…” you panted out, rolling your hips against his, feeling the bulge straining in his jeans.

John released his hold on you, his hands slowly trailing your skin as he unbuttoned your jeans, slipping them down your legs.

“No underwear? Such a naughty girl.” John purred before he buried his face between your thighs. His beard scratched against your legs as his tongue swirled circles around your swollen clit. Your body was on fire with every touch, every move, every flick of his masterful tongue. You sought purchase in the sheets above your head, throwing your head back with a sultry whimper as you grasped at the fabric.

A slender finger found your waiting slit easily sliding inside of you. “So wet,” John purred against your slick folds as he began pumping his finger slowly before adding a second. He curled them just right against your walls and had you squirming beneath him in moments.

“Don’t hold back, I want everyone to hear you scream my name.” He twisted his fingers just right, hitting your g-spot. You couldn’t hold back any longer, screaming his name over and over as you came undone around his fingers. Your entire body trembled as you came down from pure ecstasy.

John didn’t waste any time, ripping his jeans off and lining himself up. He thrust into you abruptly and to the hilt, hips smashing into yours. You cried out at the sudden intrusion but quickly adjusted to him. The burning stretch coursing through you like a jolt of electricity. His pace was hard but delicate at the same time. With every rough thrust, he showered you with kisses and words of praise, claiming every inch of your neck as his own. Biting and sucking with demand, sure to leave marks.

He worshipped you like a heavenly deity made only for him.

He pushed into you faster as he cupped your cheek with his forehead to yours. “You are so perfect,” he cooed against your lips. He reached his hand between you, rubbing tight and rough against your clit. “Cum with me,” he demanded.

You screamed out his name once more as you felt him spasm inside of you. He grunted as he released against your walls. You felt the warmth running down your thighs.

John collapsed on the bed next to you gasping for breath for only a moment before pulling you into his arms placing more kisses on the crown of your head. You heaved a heavy sigh of satisfaction against his chest.

You fell asleep not long after.


	9. Chapter 9

The silk sheets felt like butter against your soft skin as you rolled over looking for John. You reached out a hand before opening your eyes and were met with an empty bed. The spot where he had fallen asleep next to you was cold signaling he had left some time ago.

You shuffled out of the luxurious bed and grabbed John’s discarded shirt from the floor. You could smell him on it as you wrapped yourself inside and headed downstairs.

Coming around the corner into the kitchen area, the smell of delicious breakfast wafted into your nose. John was hovering in front of the stove in black silk night pants, sans a shirt, and humming a little tune as he stirred something cooking in the pan. You stood in the doorway taking in the sight before you.

Big bad John ‘The Baptist’ Seed was...being domestic, feverishly cooking away at the stove. You wondered to yourself what kind of person he would have become if it weren’t for all the tragedy in his life. How different would he be? Or would he have become what he was regardless?

“Hey,” John spoke after finally seeing you over his shoulder, pulling you from your own thoughts.

“Hey,” you smiled back.

“I hope you have an appetite because I went a little overboard this morning,” he said pointing to the countertop covered in plates of food. “Coffee is over there if you want some.”

“You really didn’t need to do all this for me,” you filled your cup with the soothing black liquid, adding in milk and sugar to your liking. The first hot sip warmed your body on its way down your throat.

“What kind of host would I be if I didn’t?” a mischievous smile crossed his lips. He plated the scrambled eggs he had been mixing and asked you to help him move the feast to the dining table. It was enough food to feed a small army.

You both were about to take your seats when a knock came from the door.

“For fuck’s sake,” John huffed as he headed towards the banging. He opened the door to the nervous-looking peggie. You had met and spoken with him briefly on one of your first days at the ranch. Jason, that was his name if your memory served you correctly. He seemed like a nice kid.

“What is it that is so important you disturb us this early?” John asked in frustration.

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. “It’s The Father, sir. He is on his way here. Again. He said he’s been trying to reach you on the radio but you weren’t answering. So, he is on his way, now. He’ll be here shortly.” You watched him take a deep breath and hold it, waiting for John to unleash his fury upon him for being the bearer of bad news.

John’s posture straightened and he rolled his shoulders slightly, “I see. Thank you.” He softly latched the door shut once more.

John turned to you his eyes full of sorrow. You knew that he was going to ask you to go to your room, to be out of sight and out of mind. Though you knew it would be for your own safety, the tinge of pain at being a dirty secret still tugged at your heart. He stopped in front of you and held out his hand to lead you upstairs.

“No.” you whispered out, gently shaking your head.

“No?” John queried with a confused look.

“I’m not gonna go hide away anymore. If we’re doing...this,” you motioned between the two of you, “ I don’t want to be kept a secret. He is gonna find out somehow. Best we do it on our terms.”

John stared down at you tenderly brushing the hair from your cheek and softly pushing it behind your ear. His fingers traced the line of your jaw stopping under your chin to lift it to meet his gaze.

“Of course, my dear. I will never hide you away. I will have you at my side with pride and-”

The knocking on the door stopped him mid-sentence.

“John, sir? The Father would like to come in now.” Jason’s voice echoed through the room. John gave you one last comforting look before speaking.

“Please, show him in.”

The door slowly opened, flooding the dimly lit room with the golden rays of morning sunlight. Joseph’s strides were confident as he walked into the room, his gaze falling to John with a smile. As his line of sight fell to you, he froze in place. You slowly stood from your chair as John took your hand in his, gripping it tightly. Your posture strong and in control, you refused to show any fear.

Jason quickly shut the door behind him, leaving the three of you alone in the oversized room.

“Brother,” Joseph nodded his head at John, “Deputy,” he spoke with acid in his voice as he looked to you. His eyes grew wider at the sight of you in John’s shirt and nothing else, there was no hiding what was going on between the two of you.

“It would seem that we have much to discuss.” Joseph cautiously began to head towards the table.

“Yes, won’t you join us for breakfast? We were just about to start.” John motioned for Joseph to take a seat at the table.

Joseph took his seat across the table from you, placing his bible down next to him. John squeezed your hand gently before placing a kiss to your temple and taking his seat at the head of the table.

“Shall we pray?” Joseph asked extending his hands out to you both. John looked to you, waiting to follow your lead in the situation. You hesitated for only a moment before taking Joseph’s hand in yours and reaching for John’s.

“Yes, I’d like that,” you spoke calmly and confidently.

The slight upturn of Joseph’s lip showed his amusement at your actions.

He went on to pray for the Project, for his family, and even for those who didn’t believe, asking that their eyes be opened to the righteous path before them.

“I can only assume that you are feeling ‘better’ now, John?” Joseph asked as he took a bite of bacon, his eyes darting between the two of you. “The Deputy has been seeing to your...needs?” The condescension dripping from his words. You saw the gleam of fire in his eyes. Though his exterior showed no signs of it, you knew there was a storm brewing inside the man across from you.

John nearly choked on his mouthful of food, clearly understanding what Joseph was implying.

“Charlie,” you interjected.

“Excuse me?” Joseph asked, gaze piercing into you.

“My name is Charlie,” you explained with a soft smile. “As far as I’m concerned, ‘The Deputy’ is gone now. It’s a role I no longer want to play.”

Joseph studied your every move. He watched you with a cold, calculating look.

“I see. And what, exactly, brought about your change of heart? You and your ilk have been raging war against us for months now, destroying everything we have built.”

John was about to speak to defend you, but you placed your hand on his, silencing him.

“The Resistance asked me to do something that I couldn’t. To sacrifice innocent children as a means to kill John. But even before that,” you looked to John, breathing in deeply, his slight nod of encouragement the only sign you needed. “In one of my lowest moments, I didn’t think to call out to Whitehorse, Pastor Jerome, or even Mary Mae. I picked up my radio and called out to John. Knowing he would be the only one who could understand. The only person who would really hear me.” Your thumb brushed gentle circles over John’s knuckles.

Joseph shifted uncomfortably in his chair, rolling his eyes slightly at your words. If you could read minds, you were sure Joseph’s would be cursing your very existence.

Poor John sat in silence watching the clash of wills in front of him.

You had noticed it the night of your baptism. The way John seemed to dance between personalities. Strong and in control, commanding everyone’s attention, until Joseph announced his arrival. Almost instantly, John had become like a scared child in his commanding presence. Adverting his gaze and softening his voice, speaking barely above a whisper to him.

You hated it.

And for Joseph to threaten John’s salvation based on your actions was the final straw that night. It was time for some payback.

“It was you, Joseph, wasn’t it, who said to John the night of my baptism, something along the lines of ‘You have to _love_ them, John’?” you mused out loud, staring daggers into the man across from you. You were done being afraid of him, done cowering before him, it was time someone knocked him from his pedestal.

“I’ve agreed to give John one week of my time to show me that the Project is the right path. I want him to show me the good that it can do. To show me the ‘love’ you so often preach about. And what better way to show his love than to open his home to me,” a devious smile crossed your lips, “And his bed.” You glared at him, eyes full of fire.

John cleared his throat roughly, trying not to choke on his own saliva, eyes wide as if he’d seen the Holy Spirit manifest in front of him.

Joseph leaned forward placing his elbows to the table and lacing his fingers together, contemplating you. You watched the evil wheels turning in his head, knowing he was searching for the right thing to say to hurt you in return. You prepared yourself for whatever venomous words were about to leave his mouth, promising yourself not to react, no matter what.

“Ah, yes, John’s preferred method of converting the nonbelievers. The art of seduction has always been one of his strong suits or so I’ve been told.”

Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head as you scoffed at his words. If he thought something like that would get under your skin, he was sadly mistaken. You went to respond but John cut you off abruptly.

“Joseph, you said that we had much to talk about,” he chimed in attempting to change the subject, “What is it that we need to discuss, exactly?”

“Yes,” Joseph turned his fiery gaze towards his brother, “There is a long list of confessions that you need to see to. I was hoping to send you a batch of new followers tonight.”

“Of course.”

“Perhaps you can have the deputy here help you with them. Let her witness your _love_ _and devotion_ to the Project first hand. Hmm?”

John’s worried glances towards you conveyed his nervousness. You had heard stories of the brutality of his confessions. Never afraid to spill blood in the name of the Father. It was one thing to hear the stories, it would be another to witness and take part in it.

“It’s decided then, I will send you the first batch tonight. Three willing and two that will require some more convincing on your part.” Joseph stood from his place at the table, taking his bible back into his hands and lowering his glasses back to his face. “I have many things to tend to today. I’ll leave you to make the preparations for your guests tonight.”

John stood from his place at the table, “Yes, I’ll see you out then.”

Joseph turned to you once more with searing anger behind his eyes.

“Deputy,” he spoke masking his malice with pleasantries.

His refusal to use your name made the bitterness swell inside you. Such a small show of disrespect but something you wouldn’t forget nonetheless. You always had been one to hold a grudge.


	10. Chapter 10

“You will say Yes…”

John circled the man bound to the chair in the center of the room. The red lights above cast an ominous glow. His movements fluid and graceful with every step, flitting across the floor like a ballerina en pointe, his feet scarcely making a sound on the cold concrete floor.

“And you will accept the word of the Father into your heart.” The knife in his right hand glinted in the ominous lighting of the small room. His knuckles turning white in his death grip. “Now just confess to me, tell me your sins, and you will feel the burden lift from your shoulders. Accept our gift to you.”

The man struggled to lift his chin from his chest. A small trail of blood falling from his lips and trailing down his throat.

“Fuck. You.” he huffed out before letting his face fall once more.

“How unfortunate,” John mumbled to himself, “That isn’t the response I’m looking for.” He traipsed his way to the workbench in the center of the room ogling his collection of toys.

From your vantage point hidden in the shadows, you watched the intimate dance before you. The ebb and flow of John’s mood, waxing and waning in front of your very eyes. You had seen this character before the night of your baptism. The silver-tongued orator putting on a show.

At first, it was difficult to watch John in his element, so calm and collected as he inflicted pain on others. The three new willing members confessions had gone smoothly and quickly, willingly spilling their darkest secrets to the man holding the white Book of Joseph. They took their marks with pride and showed genuine joy on their faces throughout all of it.

The first unwilling participant had put up a decent resistance but caved quickly once John had begun cutting into their flesh with little regard. They slipped into unconsciousness not long after, carried out slung over the shoulders of one of the Peggies.

But this one…

“I don’t think you understand the predicament in which you find yourself, sir.” John twirled the knife in his fingers with a nimbleness you hadn’t seen before. “You see, this isn’t a choice about faith anymore. This is a choice about whether you want to stay among the living for another day.” With a swiftness that could only be described as otherworldly, John had moved to the man’s side positioning the knife just under his chin, lifting his eyes to meet John’s.

“The choice is yours to make.”

The man’s eyes burned with the rage of a thousand fiery suns threatening to cut through John like a hot knife in butter, but John refused to back down even the slightest. He held the man’s gaze for an eternity before straightening back up and towering over the man.

The exhaustion was heavy in John’s shoulders. You could see the muscles rippling beneath his clothing trying to contain the rage that boiled inside of him. His patience for the man was wearing thin. And after several hours of this game, you could understand.

“I’m going to give you one last chance to say it.” John pressed the tip of the blade into the man’s chin causing a trickle of blood to streak down the blade. “Only one more chance to say Yes.”

“I would rather die than join you freaks.” Little drops of blood sputtered from the man’s lips. “You’re all just a bunch of lunatics,” he wheezed out, “And your brother is the craziest of them all. There’s no way that God would pick such a deadbeat like him to be His voice. He isn’t worthy.”

John paused for only a moment before removing the blade from the man’s chin and heaving a heavy sigh of frustration. He moved in close to the man’s ear wrapping his hand around the back of the man’s neck, whispering something only the two of them could know. You watched as the man’s eyes searched frantically around the room trying to find a way out, an escape. His eyes finally landed on you tucked back in the shadowy corner. His gaze locked on pleading for help.

As John continued to whisper into his ear, the man let out a shocked gasp and you watched as the light drained from his eyes, his head going limp against John’s shoulder. It was over in an instant.

You watched as John stood once more and slowly walked away from the man almost as if he had forgotten you were in the room with them. He ran a bloody hand through his hair as he made his way to the door of the room. Your eyes fell back to the man in the chair.

John’s knife firmly sat between two of the man’s ribs one his left side with an angle to it. He had no doubt sliced into the man’s heart causing him to bleed out internally.

“John,” you whispered out, “What did you do?” Your hand covering your mouth in shock.

As if coming out of a haze he didn’t know he was in, John turned to you wide-eyed. “Charlie, I…” he trailed off looking at the body in the chair. “I was lost in the moment, I forgot that you were, that you were here. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that you had to see that.” John moved to be next to you, but you recoiled, pushing yourself further back into the wall. He paused at your reaction, his eyes falling slightly at the site.

You froze in fear. You had heard the stories of John’s confessions but seeing it first hand had shaken you. It was one thing to kill someone in the midst of combat. You had taken your fair share of lives. But to see it done in such a quiet, intimate way had you swimming in confusion.

“Would you have done that to me?” you asked coldly.

“Never! I would never hurt-”

“Because you wanted to fuck me, is that it?”

“No, it wasn’t like that at all!”

“Then tell me what it’s like, John! Will you do to me what you did to him? The first time I don’t agree with every word that falls out of your mouth, will you deal with me the same way? I don’t get how you can treat human life with so little regard. He was a person just like you and I. How can you just murder someone so easily?!?” Your eyes began to burn as the tears welled in the corners.

John’s eyes turned dark, “I could ask you the same thing! How many of our men and women have your snuffed out all in the name of your little resistance? People with families, people with children! Your hands are just as dirty as mine, don’t try to convince yourself any different.” His words rampaged in the tiny room tearing any semblance of peace away with them.

“The Project isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, you know. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater purpose.” His words a touch softer this time, “Let me help you to understand…” he held his hand out to you.

You stared down at his outstretched hand before you, a million thoughts racing through your mind. You could feel the bile rising in your throat.

You pushed past John leaving the red room behind in a flurry of tears and retches. It was a blur as you made your way through the ranch to your room, slamming the door behind you. You reached down and locked the door before slowly crumpling to the ground.

It was then that you realized what you had _really_ gotten yourself into.


End file.
